


Nuggets

by raspberrymocha



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Basically this is a dumping ground for everything I can’t be bothered to finish, Fic Collection, First Dates, M/M, Miscommunication, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Ignis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 10:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17303207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrymocha/pseuds/raspberrymocha
Summary: A collection of works that I may or may not ever finish. Because sometimes you just gotta get the dumb idea out of your head and onto paper.





	Nuggets

**Author's Note:**

> So, I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for like months, and I even have half of the second chapter written, but then I just kind of. Stopped? Anyway, here it is now, I guess.
> 
> Just to clarify on one line in particular, this takes place in some sort of “happy” AU where nothing bad happens ever. But like, Verstael is still Prompto’s biological father, and they’re all aware of that fact somehow. Even I’ve forgotten how that’s supposed to work at this point, to be totally honest.

Ignis likes to have a plan for every eventuality, up to and including “what to do if Noctis ever ‘grows a pair’ and makes a move.” (Gladio’s phrasing, not his.)

He’s noticed for a while now the strange way the prince has been behaving. Such as the way Noctis alternates between staring at him, and pointedly looking at anything but him. Or how he becomes inexplicably nervous in Ignis’s presence, even though they should be very comfortable with each other by now. At first, he’d chalked it up to normal teenage moodiness, and later stress. It was only when Gladio brought it up that he considered the option at all.

The plan is, of course, to let him down gently. He should be calm, apologetic. Acknowledge Noctis’s feelings without simply brushing them aside, but also make it clear that they aren’t returned. Then, Ignis will give him some space to get over the rejection in peace, before returning to normalcy, like nothing ever happened at all. It’s foolproof.

Except that’s not what happens at all.

Noctis and Prompto are huddled close together when Ignis pulls up in front of the school. They seem to be whispering almost conspiratorially, and that never bodes well. When Noctis spots him, his eyes go wide, and he shoots Prompto a look of absolute panic. Prompto, for his part, grins and gives him an encouraging thumbs up.

“Go get ‘im, tiger!” He can hear Prompto yell, even from this distance.

“Everything alright?” Ignis asks, as Noct climbs into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, totally.” He says, but the flush still hasn’t left his cheeks. “Prompto’s just being dumb. As usual.”

The ride to Noct’s apartment is quiet and uncomfortable. He doesn’t live far from the school, but it seems to stretch out forever. Every once in a while, Noctis will take a deep breath, open his mouth to speak before slamming it closed again with a click of his teeth. He’s obviously steeling himself for something.

Ignis doesn’t push the subject. Noctis will talk when he’s ready – and more to the point, he’s perfectly happy to put this conversation off for as long as possible.

By the time they reach the apartment, he’s sure that Noct has lost his nerve entirely. With a sigh, the prince settles on the couch, and begins to arrange his textbooks on the coffee table. Just like that, all the tensions dissipates. It’s just another night where Noctis is doing his homework while Ignis starts on dinner.

Then Noctis’s phone buzzes, and all that is thrown out the window. He groans, and Ignis looks up in time to see him walking into the kitchen. He leans against the counter in a way that’s clearly supposed to be casual, but has too much effort behind it to be convincing.

“Hey, Specs.” He says, and Ignis braces himself. “Do you… maybe wanna get dinner sometime?”

It’s such an innocent request that he almost whips out his phone to check his schedule. Instead, he turns down the heat on the stew, and turns to face the prince.

“Noct…” He begins, and Noctis’s face immediately falls. Apparently, he’s not very good at this “letting him down gently” thing, because the prince already looks a little like a kicked puppy.

“Forget it. It’s dumb. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He says quietly, refusing to look Ignis is the eyes. He’s not crying or screaming, but somehow, that makes everything worse – knowing that he’s just bottling things up, and it’s all going to come out sooner or later.

“It’s not dumb.” Ignis means to follow it up with something comforting, like “you can’t help how you feel”. For a brief moment, though, he sees hope blooming across his prince’s face, and the words get caught in his throat. “I mean, that is to say…”

“Yeah?” Noctis leans in close, all wide eyed and eager.

“I think… Dinner would be lovely.”

“Really?” A wide grin breaks out across his face. Later, in the privacy of his own rooms, Ignis will beat himself up over this. He’ll run his hands through his hair, pace the floor and wonder what the hell he’s doing. For now, though, he can’t bear to be the one who wipes that smile off of Noctis’s face.

“Of course. Let me just check my schedule, and we’ll see what we can work out…”

They arrange their date for next Friday. Noctis seemed disappointed that they couldn’t fit it in any earlier, but that suits Ignis just fine. It gives him plenty of time to think, to plan, to figure out a way of cancelling without hurting Noctis’s feelings too much.

In the end, the solution comes to him in the form of Gladiolus Amicitia. It’s a few days after that disastrous conversation when he comes barreling into Ignis’s tiny office, looking like a very angry behemoth in a proverbial china shop.

“What the hell, Iggy?” He demands, slamming his hands into the desk so hard that a few papers go flying.

“You’re picking those up.” Ignis says, eyebrow raised, without looking up from his work. “What is it this time? Is the grocery store out of cup noodles again?”

“You know damn well what it is.” Ignis does look up at him, then. He’s wearing a tank top and loose pants, and the smell of sweat permeates the air.“Whatever happened to letting him down gently, huh?”

Oh, so that’s it. Noct must have let something slip during their weekly training session. Ignis sighs, and sets down the report he’d been working on – highlighting all the important parts for Noct to read through later. He pulls off his glasses, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It was foolish of me, I admit.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Gladio says, sinking into one of the chairs on the other side of the desk. “You know you have to tell him the truth, right?”

Of course Ignis knows that. He’s just been fighting with that knowledge for days now. Surely, there must be a more delicate way to handle this than to say to the prince’s face that he doesn’t actually want to go on a date with him.

Gladio must sense his hesitation, because he continues with narrowed eyes. “That _is_ what you’re gonna do, right? Because there’s no way this ends well. Honestly, I don’t know what the brat’s thinking. You guys are totally incompatible.”

Ignis pauses in the middle of slipping his glasses back on his face. “That’s it!”

“Huh? What’s up, Iggy?” Gladio asks, staring as Ignis jumps to his feet.

“What you just said. Of course we’re totally incompatible, and Noctis will no doubt realize that when I don’t want to talk about Tekken 7 over dinner.”

“Wait, you’re actually planning on going through with it?”

“Why not? It’s only one date, and I doubt Noct will want another. It’s like you said, this can’t possibly go anywhere.”

“Uh, that’s not exactly what I meant.” Gladio says, but Ignis isn’t paying any attention to him.

It so simple, he doesn’t know why he didn’t think of it sooner. If he can’t break Noctis’s heart, then he just has to make sure the prince falls out of love with him. It should be easy enough, considering their disparate personalities. Then, they can have a nice clean break up – if it can even be called that – with no feelings attached. It’s foolproof.

* * *

Noctis is early. _Noctis_ – who probably couldn’t be bothered to crawl out of bed if the world was ending around him – is a whole 15 minutes early for their date. What’s more, he’s wearing an actual suit, all royal black and gold, complete with the dress shoes that he insists give him blisters.

“Ready to go?” He asks, and Ignis is so dazed that he doesn’t even register it for a second.

“Um… not quite yet. I wasn’t expecting you for a few more minutes.” More like a few more hours, really.

“Oh. Right. I guess that’s my bad.” Noct says, rubbing the back of his neck and is there more gel in his hair than usual? Oh, Six in heaven, what has he gotten himself into?

“It’s quite alright. Please, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be just a moment.”

With a mumbled “thanks”, Noct steps into his living room. There’s something strange about seeing him standing there. Even Ignis spends more time at Noctis’s place than his own small set of rooms in the Citadel. Noct must sense it, too, because rather than take a seat, he wanders around the room and fiddling with whatever he can get his hands on.

While he’s distracted, Ignis slips into his bedroom, and wills himself to calm down. It’s just Noctis, he tells himself, as if that helps. Because it isn’t just Noctis. It’s _Noctis_ _Lucis_ _Caelum_ , crown prince and Ignis’s sworn sovereign. But, more to the point, his oldest, dearest friend.

He’s aware that their friendship is mostly engineered. He was always meant to serve the royal family, and just happened to be close to the prince in age. In the beginning, there were a lot of playdates, and nudging and “why don’t you show Prince Noctis your new toy”s. It had all worked out in the end, though, since they came to genuinely like each other, no matter how exasperated he might be by some of Noct’s… less than princely behaviors. He couldn’t bear it if anything were to ruin that now.

Which is why he has to stick to the plan - an amicable split, once Noctis has gotten bored of him. That’s what he keeps reminding himself, as he grabs a jacket and straightens out his hair – there’s no reason to not look presentable, even if it’s not a _real_ date.

When he returns Noctis is studying a photo of his family, from their vacation in Galdin Quay a few years back.

“Are you having fun, rearranging my living room?” He teases, even though hardly anything is out of place.

Noctis scoffs, and sets the photograph down on a different table than he’d originally picked it up from. “I’m just trying to see what I’m getting myself into. Wanted to make sure you weren’t gonna go bald in like, two years. You’re such an old man already.”

“How romantic.” Ignis sighs. “Really, Noct. At least save the insults for the end of the date.”

“Duly noted.” Noctis says with a wicked grin, and holds out a hand. Ignis takes it without hesitation, realizing too late that it’s probably a bad idea. He can’t take it back, though, and so allows Noct to lead him out into the hallway and toward the elevator.

“At least you know you don’t have to worry. We Lucis Caelums age like fine wine.” He continues, and Ignis can’t really dispute that. King Regis is still rather handsome, even at his age. If Noctis looks anything like when he’s older, his partner – whoever that ends up being – will be very lucky, indeed.

Ignis sighs dramatically. “I could do a lot worse, I suppose. At least you don’t have Prompto’s genes.”

“Right?!”

The elevator dings, and they step out, still hand in hand. Noct leads them toward the front entrance, past the Crownsguard and servants who give them funny looks. They must make a curious sight – the prince and his advisor, all dressed up and standing closer than what is really appropriate.

They pass Gladio as he’s walking up the steps, and he gives them a disapproving glare. Noct seems puzzled by this, but Ignis just shrugs it off.

There’s a car waiting for them outside, and a woman in a crisp uniform greets them as they approach – one of the drivers actually employed by the crown, unlike Ignis, who does it just because he wants to.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Ignis asks, and Noct opens the door for him.

“It’s a surprise.” Noct’s eyes twinkle with mischief, but he also seems… proud of himself?

It’s strange, but he doesn’t push it any further. He knows how Noct get when he sets his mind on something. Instead, he gazes out the window, trying to gauge where they’re headed based on their surroundings. The car ride is quiet, but it’s not awkward, the way he thought – hoped, really - it might be. Noct seems content, amused even, to watch Ignis try to ruin his surprise.

Eventually, he does see a familiar building, where the car finally slows to a stop.

“Noct…” Ignis says slowly.

“Yeah, Specs?” He feigns innocence. It’s not a good look on him.

“This is that place I was telling you about – that Accordan restaurant that just opened up.”

“I remember. You also told me that you’re dying to try it.”

“Then surely you must also recall me telling you that they aren’t taking any reservations for months.” He stares longingly at the building, with it’s Altissia-insipired architecture and sign proclaiming they have the most authentic Accordan cuisine in the city.

“Maybe that’s true, if you aren’t the crown prince.” Noct has a smug look on his face, but there’s something softer in the shape of his eyes. It’s a look that says he’d move a mountain, if Ignis asked him to, and it’s wholly unsettling.

Ignis wants to scold him for such a flagrant abuse of his power, but the words die on his tongue. He hadn’t expected Noctis to remember, to do something so thoughtful. Affection bubbles up in his chest, and he has to stamp it down, before he does something stupid like hug Noct.

 _Stick_ _to_ _the_ _plan_.

(The plan didn’t really include Noctis being so sweet, though.)

He’s still in a bit of a daze as he follows the prince inside. On some level, he suspected that Noct had been mistaken, or that this is some strange prank, but no. Noctis has a brief conversation with the hostess, then they’re being led to their table. It isn’t until he realizes he’s being addressed that Ignis snaps out of it.

“I’m sorry?” He asks, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Noct hiding a smile behind his menu.

“I asked what you’d like to drink, sir.” Even the waitress seems amused.

Ignis quickly scans the drink menu, not wanting to waste more of her time. They have a wide selection of wines, but he skips over those, because even though he’s old enough to drink now, Noctis is not. Eventually, he settles on coffee, supposedly brewed in-house with imported beans.

“Only you would drink coffee with dinner.” Noctis snorts, as he sips on his drink - some kind of fruity cream soda that is almost certainly more Lucian than Accordan.

Ignis shrugs it off. “I’ll need the energy, anyway. There’s a pile of paperwork waiting for me at home.”

“How’s work going, by the way?”

Ignis nearly chokes on his coffee. “You want to talk about work?” He should be glad. It’s a nice, safe, boring topic that will put Noct off faster than one can say “King Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII”.

Noct shrugs. He’s not looking at Ignis, instead focusing on grabbing a breadstick out of the little basket in the table, but there’s a blush high in his cheeks. “I want to talk about you, and if I know anything, it’s that you’ve been working your butt off, as usual.”

Ignis freezes, that dazed feeling coming back to him. “It’s… It’s going well, thank you. There’s been a proposal to fix up some of the roads around the city.”

“Oh, yeah. I saw that.” Noctis says, waving around a breadstick. “I think it’s a good idea. I mean, you should see the street in front of Prompto’s place. It’s a disaster.”

“Yes, well, the question becomes how to pay for such a project.”

“Isn’t that why people pay taxes?”

Ignis sighs. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Then explain it to me.”

Ignis’s brain short-circuits. “What?”

“Explain it to me. I’m supposed to know this stuff, right?”

So he does. He explains that they can’t just raises taxes, because that would make the citizens angry, and they can’t just print more money, because that would cause inflation. Therefore, the funds have to be diverted from somewhere else, and no one can agree where that should be, with some arguing that the project should just be dropped altogether.

He’s sure that at any point, Noct is going to tell him to stop, that he can’t take it anymore. Maybe he’ll make some excuse to leave, and then they can pretend this never happened. Except, he doesn’t. He listens with rapt attention, even giving his input in places, and it doesn’t even seem to be entirely for Ignis’s sake. He seems genuinely interested, and while it’s good to see him taking these things seriously, right now, it’s really not helping matters at all.

At some point during all this, their food arrives – simple spaghetti and meatballs for Noctis, and lasgna bolognese for Ignis. It really is quite good, but he’s barely aware of that as conversation continues to flow easily between them. The topic shifts from work eventually, without him even noticing. School’s fine. They have a history test coming up and Prompto hasn’t studied at all. Speaking of Prompto, his Crownsguard training is going well. He should be formally inducted soon, and he seems really pleased. Noct is struggling with his magic lessons, but Regis says that’s perfectly normal…

It goes on like this, long after they’ve finished eating, after dessert even (Noctis wanted to try a cannoli), until Ignis’s phone buzzes. It’s just a work email, but it does draw his attention to the time.

“Goodness, is it that late already?” He asks, and Noct looks startled.

“I guess time got away from us.” He says with a bashful smile. He pulls out his own phone, and fires off a text. “Come on, the car should be here soon.”

He offers Ignis his hand again, and the two of them walk out to the street. By now, the sun’s gone down, but the city is awake as ever - cars racing past, and crowds of people lining the streets. Amongst it all stands Noct, illuminated by some combination of street lamps and moonlight, pale skin practically glowing. Insomnia is truly beautiful at night.

The ride back to the Citadel is quiet again, but Ignis suspects that they’ve simply exhausted all topics of conversation. The nice thing about him and Noctis is how comfortable they are with each other. Neither feels the need to fill the silence with awkward, forced conversations.

Noctis insists on walking up to Ignis’s apartment with him – “because I’m a gentleman” he says, and Ignis snorts, but permits it. It’s only when they reach the door that things start to get awkward. Noctis hesitates, shifting his weight nervously. His gaze flicks down to Ignis’s lips, and he realizes suddenly that Noct is debating whether or not to kiss him.

For one, crazy moment, he seriously considers it, before remembering that that is emphatically not what he’s supposed to be doing here. A voice that sounds suspiciously like Gladio yells at him to just tell Noct the truth already, before he gets in over his head.

“Noct… Thank you for dinner. That was very kind of you.” He means to leave it at that, but ends up adding “I had a great time.” And well, that is the truth, just not all of it.

“Yeah, me too.” Noct gives a small smile, and Ignis knows that he’s doing the right thing. “Well, have a good night, Specs.” Then, he turns and disappears down the hallway,


End file.
